


Journey to the Distant Shore 12: Starbuck Adrift

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-28
Updated: 2003-08-28
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:39:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: On the drive to West Tisbury, Mass., Scully admits depression to her Journal.





	Journey to the Distant Shore 12: Starbuck Adrift

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Startbuck Adrift

## Startbuck Adrift

### by Pattie

Journey to the Distant Shore: Part 12/?: Starbuck Adrift. Title: Starbuck Adrift.  
Author: Pattie  
Category: SA, Scully P.O.V.  
Spoilers: The Truth, et al.  
Summary: On the drive to Martha's Vineyard with Mulder, Scully confides to her journal things she believes Mulder is unaware of. Disclaimer: All X-files characters and references to past material from the series are property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and 20th Century Fox Studios.  
Archive: Yes. Gossamer, preferrably. And dear Ephemeral. Feedback: Certainly appreciated: 

On the Road to Martha's Vineyard,  
Day After Visit to Georgetown. 

In all the times I've felt joy, despair, frustration and confusion, it always helped me to write things down and do some self-examination. As I write this entry, I realize I have already nearly come to the end of this Journal and will need another soon. 

During my years with Fox Mulder in the X-Files assignments, I have been physically, emotionally, and spiritually tested. My life has not been easy, but the walk through this life never is. We learn on the way, I keep telling myself. Right now, I feel so many things: guilt over sending William away and hurting the ones I loved so dearly, sadness that I cannot hold him and show his beautiful, perfect being to Mulder, and a feeling of impatience. Why can't we get everything done right away and live a nice, normal life as other lovers do? 

The houses I see in towns we pass through shelter loving families with growing children, a heritage to pass on, floors to wash and stacks of dishes and homework assignments. Oh, how I need those, want those, crave those things. 

It matters so much that now Mulder is ready to join me in our life with our son. 

Mother remarked last night that I ate only one piece of pizza. She made me a wholesome breakfast and I left half-eaten scrambled eggs, two bacon slices and half a slice of toast behind. I know my appetite is off. I have seen the palor in my face when performing my morning ritual. 

I've been wondering just where Mulder went yesterday in such a rush. We had only arrived at my apartment and he was running a personal errand. Sure, he came back with refills for his razor, but that wouldn't take two hours. 

My depression is hopefully well-hidden from Mulder. Yet, is it? He knows me like a book in some respects. 

Dana Katherine Scully, the strong one in the family, is not as powerful and independent as she lets on. I have to let these needy feelings be seen, as well as the sorrow, pain, guilt and apprehension about what comes next. 

I once remarked that I felt I should not be so reliant on Mulder, yet when it seems all I should do is depend on him, he seldom disappoints me. My selfish pretense of indestructible Dr. Scully has nearly cost me my life in the past. More times than when I care to admit. 

With the end of this entry, I resolve to be more honest with Mulder about the inner me. That I owe the man who has openly cried and opened his heart and soul to me. 

"Two more hours, Scully, and we'll be there." 

My heart jumps for some reason. "That's good," I say. "We've made good time." 

"Still trying for the Nobel Prize for Literature, Scully?" 

"Uh, no. Not really. Just catching up with myself," I say with my patented forced smile. "I think we'll have some talking to do later." 

"Oh? What, my dear, do you have in mind?" 

"Everything I haven't said that maybe I should have." 

Journal, I fear our time together has passed. Your replacement will be purchased in my beloved's old stomping grounds. 

Dana Katherine Scully. 

**END.**

  
  


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